


This Wide World

by Liralen



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Religious, Alternature Universe, Attempted Rape, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Religious Themes & References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liralen/pseuds/Liralen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amish teen Jensen is staying with his cousin, Chris, during his 'Rumpspringa'--the time in a teenager's life where they explore the outside world and decide whether they want to join the rest of the world or remain in the community and be baptized as Amish. Things go from confusing to frightening for naive Jensen, and a tall, shaggy-haired stranger comes to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Wide World

There was absolutely nothing in Jensen's previous 16 years of life to compare this to. The "party" raging in Chris's apartment—deafening, whirling, multi-colored and scented by soap, smoke, perfume and alcohol—defied Jensen's powers of imagination or comprehension.

The closest he'd ever come to feeling this overwhelmed, this completely surrounded and awed and lost, had been a meteor shower he'd watched when he was seven from the center of an empty field. Nothing but wheat and sky and stars as far as he could see, and he'd thought at first that the world was ending, the night falling down around him in flames to burn him up. The fear and fascination he'd felt in those silent minutes before dawn was a thousandth of what he felt right now, and so far all he'd done at the party was stand and stare.

Chris was the only person in the whole world that Jensen knew outside of the community. He'd been Jensen's favorite cousin growing up, and ever since Chris had left the community and gone to "live English" four years ago, Jensen had been waiting for his Rumspringa and the chance it would afford him to see the other boy again. It would be his only chance. Like all friends who chose to live English instead of by the Ordnung, Chris had been officially shunned, and was no longer part of Jensen's family as far as the community was concerned. Once Jensen returned and underwent his baptism, Chris would be effectively dead to him.

So he'd rallied his courage and the money he'd scraped together doing odd jobs in town and he'd taken the bus from Fort Scott to Lawrence, where Chris went to school at the University of Kansas. It was a matter of 100 miles, give or take, and the farthest Jensen had ever been from home. Chris had welcomed his younger cousin with open arms and set himself seriously to the task of giving Jensen a no-expenses-spared "normal" teenage experience.

He'd shown up in Lawrence three days ago, and Jensen felt like he hadn't stopped moving since.

"The keg's in the bathroom," someone yelled at him over the music, and Jensen turned to face a dark-haired college kid who was watching him.

"Um…what?"

The guy gestured over his shoulder. "The keg, it's in the tub. You looked kinda lost, I thought that might be what you were looking for."

"Oh." Jensen nodded knowingly, then shook his head. "No, I was—"

He stopped himself from saying "trying to find a place to hide" and asked instead, "What's a keg?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Jensen had become intimately familiar with his new friend, the Keg, downing two sticky plastic cups of beer from the thing, and spilling a third all over his jeans when a girl he'd never met before grabbed him by the hips and tried to grind herself against his thigh. His other new friend, Tom, the dark-haired boy, had found the whole thing incredibly funny and had gathered a number of other guys to tell the story to.

"So you're Chris's cousin from the cult," a blond guy said; Jensen didn't remember his name, but he thought he was Chris's roommate. The blond guy gave Jensen a slow look up and down, and there was something in his eyes when their gazes met again that made Jensen's face flush. He'd never had anyone look at him like that before. "He never mentioned how pretty you were. Wouldn't even show us a picture from home."

"He has no pictures from home," Jensen said, because he didn't have the first idea how to address the unexpected (and uncomfortable) compliment. "It is forbidden to have our picture taken. To examine and praise one's own image inspires pride and covetousness."

The blond guy lifted a brow, his gaze still moving lazily over Jensen as he stepped closer, until Jensen could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke. "How about a mirror? You allowed to have those, pretty? Or," the guy's mouth curled on a slow smile, "do you have no idea just how hot you are?"

Jensen's pulse fluttered in his neck and he licked his lips, feeling his face go tight and hot when the guy's gaze dropped to his mouth.

"O—only for the face, for when we shave," he stammered. "I, uh—if you will please excuse me, I—"

He was already backing away, headed for the door, but the blond guy followed, undeterred and still smiling. "Hey, where you going, gorgeous? Don't wanna talk?"

"Just—uh, I just need some air—" Jensen floundered, getting the door open and stumbling down the steps and out into the cool, blissfully quiet night.

He didn't realize his mistake until there was an arm around his waist and a hard chest against his back, pushing him further away from the party and the safety of the apartment.

"Shh," the blond guy soothed as Jensen tensed and tried to pull away. "Hey, you're fine. I just want to talk, get to know you better. That's all." The hand on his side slid down and in to press his stomach, dipping just under the waistband of his jeans. "You wanna get to know me, too, don't you? Isn't that why you're here, to have a little fun?"

Jensen jerked away and spun to face the guy, panting. The guy was still smiling, but his eyes had gone cold and hard, and his tone was full of warning.

"Careful. You don't want to do anything stupid and get yourself hurt. Chris would be so upset."

His head pounding with adrenaline, Jensen tried to bolt past the man and run, back to the apartment and the only person he knew in the whole city, but it was futile. The guy caught him neatly and pulled him close, pressing his mouth hard against Jensen's.

Jensen knew it was a kiss, although he'd never had one before. The only kisses he'd ever seen were quick exchanges between married couples, or formal greetings between the pastor's wife and women of the congregation; a dry, chaste brush of mouths. They were nothing like what the guy was doing to him now, biting at his lips and sucking wetly, thrusting his tongue into Jensen's mouth. Wrestling between the urge to get away and an upbringing that had always taught him not to fight back against anyone who tried to draw him into violence, Jensen struggled and squirmed. He got an arm up and shoved at the guy, who immediately shoved back hard in return. Jensen stumbled back a step and cried out in pained surprise as he crashed into the side of the apartment building, his head smacking off the brick and crowding his vision with stars.

Hands seized his shoulders, and without giving himself time to think Jensen struck out blindly, his fingers curved into claws. He heard the blond guy yelp in pain and felt a brief surge of relief, followed quickly by shame. He'd done violence to another person. It was nothing to take pleasure in.

"Little _bitch_ ," the guy swore, lashing out with a closed hand. Pain exploded across Jensen's face, and he thought about passing out. He was pretty sure he could manage it if he just let himself, and then at least he wouldn't have to feel the guy hurt him anymore.

He felt the blond guy moving in again and choked on a cry, prepared for the next blow, when suddenly he heard a new voice calling out: "Hey, what's going on here?"

"Nothing," the blond guy grunted, trying to get a hand over Jensen's mouth, but he was already crying out—"Help! Oh God, please help me!"

"You stupid little whore," the blond guy spit, close up and seething, and Jensen caught a single glimpse of a tall silhouette over his shoulder before the blond guy drove his fist into Jensen's cheek, and everything went black.

* * *

He woke up in a room he'd never seen, in a bed that was not his, to a face he didn't know, with a stranger's hands on him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy!" the stranger said, immediately lifting his hands away and holding them up palms-out, sitting back on his heels to give Jensen some space. "It's alright, you're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Who are you? Where—where am I?" He put a hand to his face and winced, flinched back when the guy swayed close again. "Do not touch me!"

"Okay, hey, I'm sorry." The guy looked genuinely apologetic, knotting his hands together in his lap and giving Jensen a tentative smile as he peered up at his through a thick fringe of dark hair. "I'm Jared. You're in my apartment. You passed out, and I didn't know where else to take you. I, uh…" Jared hesitated, then continued sheepishly, "I heard you in the street, having a fight with your boyfriend? Looked like you could use some help."

Jensen shuddered as the memories returned to him—the party, the blond-haired guy, the hands that had clutched at him and the mouth that had bitten and bruised. He swallowed thickly and shook his head.

"He was not my friend. I do not even know him, I met him at the party and he—"

Jensen broke off, turning his face away against the pillow to hide his blush. He startled when he felt the guy—Jared—reach out and put a hand over his own, but the touch stayed light and gentle, careful, and Jensen relaxed into it.

"Then I'm even more glad I took that route home tonight," Jared said. "I hate to even think about what might have happened if I hadn't heard you."

His voice was low and warm, and Jensen found himself tipping his head around again to meet Jared's soft smile. Examining the other man for the first time, Jensen realizes Jared wasn't much older than he was—18, maybe 19 at most. His dark hair hung in tangles around his face, falling over slanted hazel eyes, and although he was still kneeling next to the bed, Jensen took in the size of the hand covering his own and remembered the silhouette he'd glimpsed right before blacking out, and he knew that standing Jared would tower over him.

"He wouldn't stop." Jensen bit his lip, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I don't know what he wanted. He just wouldn't let me go."

Something dark moved behind Jared's eyes, something that told Jensen that Jared understood exactly what the blond guy had wanted, but all the older boy said was, "You aren't from around here, are you?"

At Jensen's blank look, Jared continued, "Your, uh, your accent. I don't know what it is, but… are you an exchange student? Because you should probably report this guy to your host family, or the program, or…shit, the police."

Jensen blushed for an entirely new reason. He felt suddenly hyper-aware of himself and his position, and struggled to sit up in bed, drawing the blanket up under his arms. Jared rose smoothly to his feet—and Jensen's guess had been right, he was ridiculously tall—and pulled a chair over to sit down beside the bed.

"No, I, um… I am from here. I mean, not from Lawrence, but I am from Kansas." Jensen ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "My accent is German. I am from Fort Scott." When Jared continued to stare blankly, he went on, "I'm Amish."

Jared's expression underwent an interesting series of transformations, finally settling on mild surprise.

"Oh," Jared said. "That's… huh, I wouldn't have guessed that. I mean, you don't look like—not that I really know how you should—"

He trailed off, gesturing at Jensen's clothing and looking as embarrassed and tongue-tied as Jensen felt. He breathed out softly in relief and smiled.

"No, you are right—this is not how I usually dress. These are my cousin's clothes."

He explained to Jared about growing up in the community, about the strict laws of the ordnung and about the Rumspringa, his time away from the community to explore the outside world, and how he'd ended up in Lawrence—and the situation Jared had found him in.

"That is why—well, I did not really know what to do. It is not something that would ever happen in the community," he concluded, a little wry.

"It's not something that _should_ ever happen, anywhere," Jared said firmly, eyes surprisingly fierce, and Jensen felt a strange pleasurable twist in his stomach before Jared's expression softened. "But it does, sometimes. I hope it hasn't put you off of the city—Lawrence is a pretty nice place, most of the time."

Jensen smiled. "I think I could give it another try."

Jared turned just a touch pink, and that pleasant ache returned, warming Jensen's stomach. "So, hey, uh—are you hungry? I haven't had dinner yet and I was just gonna nuke some pizza, plenty for two. You should probably call your cousin too, let him know you're okay."

Jared was babbling—Jensen admitted privately that it was kind of cute—but he broke off when he held out a cordless phone and Jensen simply stared.

"Oh, damn. You—you don't know how to call, do you?"

"I've used a phone before," Jensen replied, a little sharper than he'd intended. He softened. "They have them in town, and we can use them in emergencies. But, um—I do not know Chris's number."

Spying Jared's worried frown, Jensen hurried to reassure him. "He probably will not notice I am gone until morning, anyway. He was very intoxicated." When that only seemed to upset Jared more, Jensen tried changing tack. "What's on the pizza? And what's 'nuke'?"

* * *

Of all the new things Jensen had experienced in the past three days, Hawaiian-style pizza was _definitely_ his favorite. Hawaiian-style pizza, and grape soda, and what Jared called 'guy movies', like the one they were watching now about a police officer who was trying to stop a group of bad guys from stealing money and hurting people at the place where the police officer's wife worked. The cop got hurt a lot, especially when he lost his shoes, and he even shot people, something Jensen had thought would be scary—but it was all so silly and fake, and the cop said such funny things, and Jared was so warm and loud laughing next to him, then Jensen just threw his head back and laughed with him.

If he was honest with himself, Jared was really his very favorite thing so far in the outside world. Jensen liked him even better than the pizza, and he liked the pizza a _lot_. But he was pretty sure that was the kind of thing he wasn't supposed to say to Jared.

"Candy?" Jared asked as the movie stopped for a moment and changed to an advertisement for laundry detergent. He held out a big handful of small colorful discs to Jensen, brown and blue and orange and yellow and red and green, and Jensen accepted them trustingly, popping them into his mouth. He recognized the flavor once he bit down—he'd had chocolate before, rarely, and peanut butter, but never together, and the combination of flavors and textures, the smoothness and crunch, was unlike anything he'd ever tasted before.

He must have made some kind of noise, because Jared glanced over at him and grinned.

"Good?" he asked teasingly. Jensen nodded and licks his lips, unable bite back a little groan, and the gentle heat in Jared's eyes flared and slammed into him.

It was the same way the blond guy had looked at him at the party, in the beginning, but the way it twisted Jensen up inside felt completely different. Jared didn't make any move to press closer, didn't try to draw Jensen in with his gaze or his smile. He didn't even seem to be aware that he was staring until Jensen licked his lips again, slow and deliberate, and Jared's eyes widened.

"Fuck. Sorry. Jesus, I'm sorry." Jared snapped his head around to face the TV again, breathing a little fast, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Oh, my god, I'm so fucking sorry. You just almost got _raped_ and I—fuck, I'm sorry."

"Jared."

"I'm not going to do anything, I won't touch you!" Jared's voice was rising, hitting a panicked note. "I didn't mean—maybe I should call you a cab. Yeah. Your cousin's apartment is near where I found you, right? I can give the cabbie directions."

Jared was still babbling as he pushed up from the couch, and Jensen had to make a split-second decision. When his hand shot out and caught Jared's elbow, he wasn't sure which of them was more surprised.

"You don't have to call a cab," Jensen said, voice sounding rough to his own ears. "It's okay. I am not scared of you. You aren't—you haven't done anything to me, and I do not think you are going to, and, Jared, god, I want to kiss you."

He watched the bump of Jared's Adam's apple bob and click as he swallowed. When Jensen tugged lightly at his arm Jared came willingly, settling back down on the couch in exactly the spot he'd sat before. After a long moment his gaze slid over to meet Jensen's, thoughtful and assessing.

"Have you ever, um—?"

"No," Jensen answered quickly. Then he reconsidered. Uneasy, he said, "That guy, tonight—he, he, uh—but I didn't—it wasn't what I—"

"That wasn't a kiss." Jensen frowned, confused, because despite his limited firsthand experience he was pretty certain that _had_ been a kiss, but Jared just shook his head. "That was just him putting his mouth on you. It's only a kiss if you both want it."

"Oh." Jensen bit his lip, wanting to look away but forcing himself to hold Jared's gaze. He swallowed. "Jared, will you—please—I want—"

He didn't get any further with his stammering, because Jared's mouth was suddenly there, and he had been telling the truth: _this_ was a kiss.

It was nothing like the harsh, painful demand the blond guy had made of his mouth. Jared's lips were warm and slightly parted, impossibly soft, just pressing gently for a long moment before he began to move slowly against Jensen. The kiss stayed slow, a languorous slide of mouths and light swipes of tongue across the seam of Jensen's lips, and then Jared was pulling back, hazel eyes gone dark and hot as they studied Jensen.

"How was that?" Jared asked, and Jensen liked the way he sounded a little out of breath, his low voice strained and rough. He kept flicking tiny glances down at Jensen's mouth, and it made him feel too hot in the best possible way now, made his skin tingle and his dick go hard in his jeans.

"Way, way better than the candy," Jensen said sincerely, reaching for Jared's face, and Jared came to him laughing, cupping Jensen's face in both huge hands and grinning into the kiss.

"That's maybe the best compliment anyone's ever given me," Jared teased, warmth lingering in his voice. He swept his thumbs lightly over Jensen's cheekbones, and Jensen felt like one of the barn cats back home, leaning shamelessly into the touch and practically purring his pleasure.

"You are so beautiful," Jared breathed, dragging the pad of his thumb over Jensen's bottom lip. "I know, I know I'm not supposed to say that—or, well, you're not supposed to think it—but God, Jensen, you are. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met. And the fact that you don't know that is just… really kind of hot, actually."

Jensen closed his eyes against a fierce blush—part embarrassment, part want, and a tiny hint of pride—and surged up against Jared, wrapping his fingers in the older boy's long hair and sliding his tongue daringly into that warm mouth. Jared shivered and made a noise that Jensen wanted to hear a hundred more times, tilting his head to fit their mouths together at a better, deeper angle, and when Jensen tugged lightly at his hair and leaned back, Jared followed him down to the couch and covered his body with a groan.

"Jensen," he gasped, those big hands sliding down to Jensen's shoulders before they stopped abruptly, squeezing like Jared was trying to remind himself to keep them there. "Jensen, you don't have to—we don't have to do anything, I know you've never—oh, god, you've never done _anything_ with _anyone_ , oh holy fuck—"

"Want to," Jensen panted back, keeping one hand fisted in Jared's hair and wrapping the other around his waist, just in case he got any ideas about pulling away. "God, it's okay, I _want_ to. I don't know how to—I mean, I don't know what two guys do together, but I've—I've touched myself before and—"

"Oh my god, you have to stop talking right now before I come," Jared groaned, but Jensen could feel him grinning against his throat and knew he wasn't mad.

"Just—anything," Jensen begged, back arching and pulse spiking as Jared dragged his hot mouth down Jensen's neck. "Just this, god, that's good, just want to feel you."

Jared didn't respond, busy teasing Jensen's neck and collarbone with licks and nips, sucking hard at the base of Jensen's throat. One of his hands moved to Jensen's stomach, rubbing wide, soothing circles, then paused for a long moment before slipping under his shirt.

"Just tell me if anything is too much—"

"Jared, _please_ ," Jensen whined, and Jared laughed shakily and worked Jensen's t-shirt up.

It was almost painful, how good it felt to have Jared's hands on his bare skin, Jared's mouth, hot as a brand, searing along his ribs. He sealed his mouth over Jensen's nipple and flicked it with his tongue, and Jensen felt the pleasure stab from his chest straight into his groin. A few minutes of that and Jensen was arching shamelessly, legs spread wide and fingers tight in Jared's hair. It didn't seem possible for anything to feel so good, it felt like the kind of thing that would break him if it didn't stop, and yet all he wanted was _more_.

And then Jared's wide palm cupped between his thighs, rubbing firmly at his dick through his jeans, and Jared's mouth covered his again in a hungry kiss, and Jensen cursed unintelligibly and came so hard that for a moment he couldn't hear or see anything.

When he opened his eyes again Jared was watching him with a small smile. He pressed a chaste kiss to Jensen's lips, then his cheek, and Jensen blinked at him in amazement.

"I think I love you," he blurted out, still lazy and stunned and most of his brain shut down. Jared just laughed and nuzzled behind Jensen's jaw.

"Well, I was _going_ to ask if I could take you out sometime and show you some of my favorite parts of the city," he said, dragging a protesting Jensen up off the couch and into his bedroom where he stripped them both, before leading Jensen down to the infinitely more comfortable bed. "But if you _love_ me, I guess I can assume your answer would be 'yes'."

"Mm, yep," Jensen answered agreeably. His body felt newly heavy, and Jared was so warm draped over and curled around him. He hoped the older boy didn't mind if he fell asleep. "Sure, yes. What was the question?"

Jared's laughter was soft against his ear, nearly as soft as a sweet, final kiss. "Doesn't matter. I'll ask you in the morning."

 


End file.
